


Inhale, Exhale, Breathe

by StarshipCaptain



Series: Deep Space 9 Shorts [1]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Claustrophobia, Episode: s05e14 In Purgatory's Shadow, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:14:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24311851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarshipCaptain/pseuds/StarshipCaptain
Summary: Julian comforts a panicked Garak.
Relationships: Julian Bashir & Elim Garak
Series: Deep Space 9 Shorts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1758310
Comments: 10
Kudos: 38





	Inhale, Exhale, Breathe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pyrrhic_victory](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyrrhic_victory/gifts).



Garak had only been in there for half an hour. 

Muffled banging brought his already fried nerves almost to tipping point as he fumbled with the wall panel. Julian didn’t know what was going on in there, but he knew he had to get Garak out. 

“Garak? The panel is open now!” he hissed through the opening. No response.

Martok stood behind him, squinting into the darkness as Julian slid into the wall and took a deep breath of the stale air. He’d have to be quick. Sure, the Jem’Hadar might not notice if one Cardassian was missing, but two prisoners from the same block might arouse too much suspicion. 

The banging was echoing in his ears as he slid between wires and pipes and his sharp eyes caught sight of Garak’s form writhing against the outer wall. 

“Garak,” Julian called softly, barely daring to breathe. “Garak, you have to stop.”

In the dim light that made its way in from the open panel Julian could see a flash of confusion and pure fear in Garak’s eyes when he heard Julian’s voice. The banging didn’t stop, indeed it got more violent as Garak started to push at the wall in front of him. There was a strangely tangy scent in the air and Garak gasped when Julian’s hand came to rest on his shoulder. 

“You’re making too much noise,” Julian insisted, shuffling further in. 

“The-” Garak’s voice shook, “the light went out.”

Julian felt his heart sink as he whispered, “I know,” and felt Garak’s muscles tense further. 

He had to get Garak out. Well, easier said than done. Garak was still pushing at the walls, but his fingers were slipping and clutching at air as his knees seemed to buckle. Julian caught him before he could fall for fear that the noise would attract even more attention. 

“Come on, I think you can take your break a little early.” The humour fell flat. 

Garak’s eyes were glassy and his scales pale as they shuffled towards the way out. He didn’t seem to hear Martok’s insistent ‘advice’ or the Romulans’ worried muttering. Indeed he didn’t seem to be aware of anything. It was all Julian could do to keep him moving. 

“Easy does it,” Julian said as he pulled Garak from the wall. The clattering of the panel being put right again faded into the background as he got a proper look at Garak, however. His stare was vacant, his breathing shallow and far too fast to be of any use. A quick fumble around Garak’s wrist showed that his heart rate was through the roof and every touch made Garak jump and reel back. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Worf asked from across the room. 

“He’s having an acute panic attack, probably brought on by something in the wall,” Julian explained, taking Garak’s pulse again. He was alarmed to find that it wasn’t settling. A glance over his shoulder revealed Martok and the Romulans looming over his shoulder and a look back at Garak’s clenched jaw and wide eyes hastened him to shoo them back. “Stay back, I’m not sure what exactly caused it, but crowding him won’t help.”

Julian waved them away until they all settled on the beds across the room where Worf sat, bandaged and angry. There was immense relief when he saw the tension start to bleed out of Garak’s shoulders with their departure and he tried again to get his attention. 

“Garak,” Julian tried. Garak’s gaze swept over his face and settled firmly on the ceiling. “Garak!”

“It’s no good,” Martok all but shouted.

“Quiet!” Julian snapped. “Garak,” he tried once more to no avail. 

Garak seemed to be calming down and Julian made sure to crouch in front of his knees to give him as much space as possible while he held his wrist. 

“Elim,” Julian whispered after a moment’s hesitation. 

Startled eyes immediately found his and Garak took a shuddering breath. Tears were gathering at the corners of his eyes and he shuffled backwards until his back hit the wall. Julian was slow to reach out and gently wipe the escaping tears from Garak’s cheeks and Garak didn’t seem to know what to do. His expression betrayed nothing more than what the tears and unnaturally clenched jaw said. 

“I can’t,” Garak gasped. 

“You don’t have to,” Julian reassured, moving his fingers slowly from Garak’s wrist to hold his hand. 

“I won’t-”

“It’s okay, Elim,” Julian said. His movements were deliberate and slow, like he was performing a very delicate surgery, as he raised himself to Garak’s eye level. 

Garak made a choking noise as more tears fell and Julian could barely hear the Klingons’ noise of malcontent as he pulled his uniform sleeve down to dab away the tears. What mattered right now was getting through this. He could talk about the significance of anxiety and panic and the effects they had on people all they wanted, but later. 

“Can I come closer?” Julian asked. 

He almost immediately regretted it at Garak’s panicked rejection. 

“Okay, that’s alright, Elim,” Julian assured. “I’ll stay here as long as you need. I’ll stay right over here. I’m not leaving.”

Garak just nodded as the tears dribbled pathetically off his chin. 

~~

Julian could barely hear what the others were saying; his eyes were fixed on the still form of Garak all curled up and staring into space on the cot. He hadn’t moved for the past hour or so since Julian managed to man handle him to lay down on the cot and he could feel his fraying nerves splitting further. There was so much at stake right now and Garak was just laying there.

It was frustrating. Julian didn’t know how to fix this. Give him a broken bone or a virus or a bloody cold and he could patch it up in no time, but this? Garak’s mind was breaking. There were no tools in Julian’s arsenal that he could wave to rewire Garak’s brain. He was useless. 

No one spoke to him as he sat on the cot across from Garak and brooded. He supposed it was brooding. He felt defeated and broken. He wanted to reach out and smooth his hand over Garak’s forehead and brush his hair out of his face and tell him it was okay, but he didn’t. It felt too much like an invasion of Garak’s privacy even to think about it. Garak didn’t  _ need _ comforting. Garak was strong and playful and as immovable as an obelisk in a storm. After five years of seeing that obelisk standing it rattled Julian to the core to see it crumble under the pressure of a narrow space.

Back on Deep Space 9 he would refer Garak to a psychologist and wash his hands of this business. He was a fantastically trained doctor, but he was no therapist. God knows he didn’t have nearly enough empathy or understanding of how the mind really worked (because he knew exactly how it was supposed to, but that didn’t really apply to real life now, did it?) to warrant even an attempt at it. He was no better than a damned robot. 

“Garak,” Julian tried. They weren’t on Deep Space 9, they were trapped on some godforsaken asteroid in the Gamma quadrant and Julian was the doctor here. “Garak?”

_ “If Garak can’t contact the runabout, we’re not going anywhere.” _

Martok’s voice rang in his ears as he leant forward.

“Garak, please.”

Garak barely blinked as Julian reached out. Julian almost let his hand rest on top of Garak’s as it clutched the blanket to his chin, but he hesitated and drew back. It wasn’t his place to invade Garak’s personal space like this, not after what just happened. 

It was in everyone’s best interest that Garak got over this and went back to work inside the wall. At that thought, however, Julian felt a tug of guilt. He didn’t want to think about the dull clang that Garak’s body made with each convulsion; he didn’t want to think about the palpable smell of fear in the cramped wall; he didn’t want to think about the way desperation shone in wild eyes. He almost thought he would do anything if it meant Garak never had to go through that again.

God, if only that was possible. Like he said earlier, it would take several weeks for Garak to teach him how to do any of the delicate engineering required and they just didn’t have that kind of time. He had already been here a month and he was at the end of his tether. He thought he had a rather long tether before this. Martok had adapted, as one does after two years. The Romulans seemed to be faring pretty well too, but the truth was that no one could last forever in here. The sooner they got out the better for everyone. 

But for that they needed Garak.

After no response to any of his calls Julian wanted to give up. How was he supposed to help if he couldn’t get Garak to respond to him? Except, Garak had responded to him. During his panic attack Julian had used his first name and Garak’s world seemed to focus on him. Perhaps there was some reason for it, a reason why he reacted so strongly to using his given name. The questions chewed at Julian’s mind, but it wasn’t exactly the time to ask.

“Elim,” Julian tried, barely flinching as Garak’s gaze flicked up to lock with his. “How do you feel?”

Garak barely shook his head in response.

“Not good? That’s okay. Take your time, Elim,” Julian reassured. “You have a lot to tell me about when we get back to Deep Space 9, you know. For instance, what’s happened while I’ve been gone? Have I been replaced? Did anyone notice? Did Quark finally get arrested for real this time?”

Julian could do this. He could help Garak, his own failings be damned. 


End file.
